A year now.
Days that have passed in a blink;
like the pages of a book left open in the wind.
I cling to the here-and-now,
before it’s another do-you-remember-when.
Now she is one and he is three.
The nights are long but I know this time is brief
and I try, in the chaos of every day – amongst mopping spills and wiping food from cheeks –
to stop and take it in
before it flits away,
lost in a blur of weeks.
And we sang and she smiled
and in the celebration my heart ached a little
for those baby days now gone.
Now she’s one.
And with arms outstretched and wobbling
she has stepped towards toddlerdom;
on legs shaky but strong.
With a backward glance she smiles her gummy smile
and waddles away slowly.
A new chapter in our story,
and we move on.